


A Couple Notifications Later

by elladifi



Category: Muse (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Male Model, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 11:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11896644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elladifi/pseuds/elladifi
Summary: Matt's [semi] recently single, and Chris is trying to find someone he might be interested in. He gives him a link.





	A Couple Notifications Later

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TamarElmensdorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TamarElmensdorp/gifts), [Lisa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lisa/gifts).



> This was a fill for Tamar's Panicpalooza prompt of "Solo Matt," and Lisa gave me the actual idea, so thank you to you both.

I didn’t have the intention of wanking.

I’d been at home, laying on his sofa, eating a leftover, microwaved, plastic-y pizza slice when I got the text from Chris.

_Football Cunt: I found a guy for you_

Yeah, of course he did. He’d always been looking, ever since I’d broken up with my last boyfriend, and it seemed like every day he was sending me a link to some random dude’s Instagram page with the promise that I’d get laid if I sent out a message.

I texted him back. _M: No shit. Who_

Within seconds, I was met with the reply.

_Football Cunt: You may not like him. Worth a try tho imo_

_M: Just send me the fucking page_

_Football Cunt: He’s a model_

The next message was a link to yet another Instagram page, the username being @domhoward77, leading me to assume his name was Dom Howard. A model was a first—the others had been athletes, chefs, hairstylists, make-up artists; all mostly my type. I wasn’t one to go for male models. No offense to them, but they usually didn’t have any redeeming qualities besides a traditionally-hot bod. Most of the time, I couldn’t find them attractive, even if I tried.

Of course, I found myself completely wrong as I clicked the link, and, upon seeing the man, I nearly shat my pants. 

The man was a blonde. Again, I usually didn’t go for blondes, finding them to be some of the lowest of the low, but this _fucking man,_ this _Dom._

The first thing I’d noticed was his face. In almost every picture I saw, he pulled the most adorable puppy-dog eyes I’ve ever seen, his greyscale irises staring intensely through his eyelashes. His eyebrows, however, remained still, loose, relaxed—the browbone was set low enough that it almost blocked off some of his eyes in the headshots. His cheeks were somewhat hollowed but healthily so, with a dusting of darker blonde stubble tracing over the lines of his cheekbones. Other features of his face that stood out included his prominent-but-fitting nose, his dark red and plump lips, and his somewhat cartoony ears that rounded out to fit him fantastically. 

Looking through his feed, I noticed more and more about the man, about his lusciously toned body and those fantastically long fingers and the fact that he had a strange yet arousing affinity for leopard print. 

One of his shirtless posts, once I stopped drooling over the picture, had the caption, “Want to see the full image? Link in my bio ;).”

I don’t think I’ve clicked on a link faster. 

_Fuck you, Chris,_ I thought to myself as I was greeted with a picture of an entirely nude Dom. 

_Fuck you,_ I thought to myself as my hands flew down to yank my boxers off.

 _Fuck you,_ I thought to myself as I shamelessly tugged on my rapidly hardening cock, the sensation greeting me like smacking face first into a wall. My thumb never stopped scrolling down the feed, and with every single image of an entirely naked Dom I felt a tingling sensation float over my whole body.

This man was _gorgeous._

In one picture, he shyly looked up at the camera with those _damn_ puppy-dog eyes, one hand letting its fingers find their way into his mouth while the other folded over his junk. _Oh, what a fucking tease._ The sudden urge to attempt to rip his hands off his body and bind them behind his head _through_ the phone brought me even closer to that distant edge. 

Another saw him with both hands behind his head, stretching his bronzed torso towards the sky. He was smiling, looking away from the camera, and I felt my stomach jump at the sight of him so shamelessly showing off his beautiful body. The things that man could do to me, I dare not say. I felt the strangest need to run my fingers over his ribcage, dip them in his belly button, massage the gently-toned muscles of his stomach, stoke his cock to full hardness, much like I had done to my own upon laying my eyes on him.

This man.

_This man._

My previously gentle pulls had become desperate as I _craved_ release, needing to come as I was nearing the bottom of his feed. In a desperate attempt to finish, I dropped my phone onto my lap, moving my other hand to caress my balls. “Oh, _fuck,”_ I couldn’t help muttering when an electric wave of pleasure rushed to my head. I imagined my hands were not my own, but instead Dom’s, stroking me in a desperate attempt to please me.

“Mmh.” The tiny moans kept coming as I breathlessly sunk a finger down to my entrance. _To be filled up by him,_ my head whirled as the finger attempted to sink its way into my body, despite the only lubricant being a tiny bit of precome. It burned, but the pleasure outweighed it.

_Imagine him laying between your legs, that mop of blonde hair flattened with sweat as his tongue probed into you. Oh, imagine the pleasure of his stubble scratching against your thighs, that fucking glorious bliss of his tongue curling into your core, yeah, his hands grasping your thighs with fervor as he tries so desperately to get you off. Imagine him pulling away, a string of saliva connecting your hole to his mouth as he pants out, “Please, can I fuck you, sir?”_

I had no idea where these obscene thoughts were coming from, but I refused to fight them. They only drove me closer to release, if anything. I almost let out a sob from the stretch of a second unlubed finger, but the thought of it being Dom’s finger was the only thing that kept me from pulling it out. 

_What would that gorgeous face look like when he came? How would those divine features contort when he felt wave after wave of hot pleasure overcome him? Would those puppy-dog eyes tear up? Was he a screamer? Would he prefer to come inside of you, telling you what a tight little heat you had, or would he pull out and paint you with his release?_

The thought of his body, in all its golden glory, fucking me with abandon brought me that much closer to my release. I was nearly there.

 _His ribs. His stomach. The delicate muscles there fluttering under your touch as you so desperately try to grab a hold of him while he thrusts hard inside you. His strong arms straining as he holds your hips still, allowing you to become totally absorbed in pleasure without having to do any work. A hand creeping steadily towards your cock, gripping it tightly and tugging with his thrusts, tiny gasps of want falling from his lips as he throws his head back. His whole neck, that tightened column, completely exposed as his Adam’s apple bobs with desperate attempts to swallow. His words, his_ voice, _straining, “Fuck, Matt, you’re so tight, so beautiful, take me, take me,_ take me.” _Imagine that._

Just then, my phone buzzed, right on my thigh, and the vibrations pulled me over that edge, hard, and I came with a shudder and a breath that his name rode on. Two, three, four strokes later and white satisfaction blotted on my shirt, my hand, my thighs, my phone.

_Imagine him holding you after, telling you what a good job you did taking him, his long fingers massaging your scalp gently as you both settle into a soft sleep._

But I couldn’t sleep, and I used the bottom of my shirt to wipe the come off my phone screen—I’d thoroughly clean both later—to see who had texted me.

_Football Cunt: So?_

Oh, that bastard.

With a smile, I typed out a reply. 

_M: I was having a nice wank and your fucking notif pushed me over_

_Football Cunt: Fantastic. Cos of him?_

_M: What do you think?_

_Football Cunt: I have his number._

My heart jumped.

_M: Send it. Now._


End file.
